


Night of Storms

by noktern



Series: Adeptus Astartes - Storm Talons [2]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen, Nelphi, Night Lords, Raven Gaurd, Space Marine, Storm Talons, chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:01:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23189683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noktern/pseuds/noktern
Summary: It has been fifty years since the so-called Nelphi Founding.  The Storm Talons have risen to full Chapter strength, claimed Volos Secundus as their Homeworld, and have raised their Fortress Monastery, Tempest Keep, among the peaks of the Heavenspire Mountains.  From this base of operations, the Storm Talons strike against the enemies of man, be they Xenos, Heretic, or Mutant.  They have come to excel at clandestine warfare and, with increasing frequency, utilize fear and terror to bring their foes to heel.Now known as the Stormlord, Saeg has risen to the rank of Chief Librarian and directs the psychic might of the Librarius from the depths of the Keep.  The warp whispers with the portents of his future.  The insights of the Fiend and the Shadelord, two very dissimilar aspects of his future, weigh heavily on his mind.  His future, however, is not all that weighs upon him.  He has felt the movements of an unkind hand attempting to shape the destiny of both himself and of his Chapter and works to thwart them.
Series: Adeptus Astartes - Storm Talons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666993
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Lessons on Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Characters, settings, concepts, and worlds created, copyrighted, and trademarked by Games Workshop. As such these stories are derivative works created solely for entertainment.
> 
> Housekeeping: 
> 
> I use the "+" sign to denote that the speakers are communicating in machine code. If you've ever heard an old dial-up modem tone that's what I imagine something like this would sound like.
> 
> Conversely, I use "~" to denote that the speakers are using psychic powers to speak.

Dark rain fell from the night sky as it had for the last two weeks. It was cold and filled with the pollution of heavy industry that burned exposed skin in moments. It ran down the armour of the two astartes in sheets as they knelt together on the ridge overlooking the vast hive complex. Lightning flashed in the black sky overhead, illuminating their armour briefly. Both wore cyan coloured armour, the trim of their pauldrons were covered with carved bone. On the left pauldron, the same material had been carved into the shape of a raptor's claw holding a bolt of lightning in its grasp. As the light faded, the burnt orange glow of their eye lenses became the only sign of their presence. When another bolt of lightning lit the heavens a few moments later, the astartes were gone.

***************************************************

  
Lazarus Ban Avenii sat on the throne of the Imperial Governor within the Tower of Man at the pinnacle Hive Avenii. His was an unlooked-for honour. One thrust upon him by demands of the High Council of Beli-Kur, the Council of nobles houses from the other hive cities on Beli Prime as his beloved father succumbed to a rare brain parasite. 

Damiano Ban Silurii stood at the marble podium in the centre of the room and addressed his fellow nobles, his patrician features and silver hair lending him authority. "The Imperial Tithes are as a millstone hung around our necks!" His voice throbbed with anger. "They take our planet's wealth for the Administratum and our sons and daughters for the Militarium!" Angry muttering could be heard around the council room. "Yes! They take, and they take, but what do they give in return? Nothing! We must also house and fund our own planetary defence force, build or buy ships for our own system defences, and build or buy our own weapons and munitions!"

Another Councilor, Zacharus Ban Novarii, stood. Like Damiano, he possessed the well-aged patrician features of the noble houses of Beli Prime, but his hair still bore the deep brown of his youth. Lazarus suspected that he dyed it. "We have the protection of the greater Imperium! The Emperor's armies, his navy, and his Angels of Death!" He responded hotly. "Trade with systems we would never have known of! The knowledge of the Mechanicum maintains the systems of our cities, our starships, and our manufactorums!"

"At the cost of the pitted walls of our cities! A population that cannot venture outside without hazmat suits!" 

Lazarus raised a hand to silence the arguing councillors. "Peace, councillors. The damage was done long before any in this chamber were born. It would require a major undertaking in terraforming to reverse at this point." He looked down at Zacharus and Damiano. "Not that this is not without merit, but is not a topic for discussion at the present time." Both inclined their heads in acceptance. "Please continue Councilor Silurii."

"The Imperium has taken a great deal from Beli Prime and our holdings throughout the system," Council Silurii continued. "It has given us very little in return. I put it before this Council that we need to re-negotiate the arrangement we have with the Imperium or else show them the door."

Another Councillor, Amenadis Ban Volcae, rose. "Seconded. I, for one, am weary of seeing those who manage to return do so broken and wasted."

With a deep sigh, Lazarus nodded. "Councillor Silurii, you will present your argument. Councillor Novarii, you will represent the counter-argument?". Councillor Novarii bowed deeply. "Excellent. Silurii, if you please."

Damiano Ban Silurii inclined his head in gratitude and stepped down to the council room's floor before speaking. "Brothers and sisters of this august council, my plea is simple. Our populous deserves better than what the Imperium has given it in exchange for their sacrifice." He looked around the room, his calm demeanour adding gravitas to the situation. "How many of our sons and daughters bravely join the ranks of the Astra Militarium, never to return, or worse, to return broken and empty?" The Councillor paused as his voice cracked for a moment. His own son had been returned, his body shattered, his features erased by plasma burns, and his tongue torn out at its root by his own hands in his madness. "The Imperium plunders the wealth of resources Beli Prime possed and gave us toxic skies and soil salted by pollutions in exchange." 

Angry muttering echoed in the vast chamber. "Beli Prime has ever been loyal to the Emperor of Mankind and His Imperium, even during the Nelphi conflict, we remained loyal despite the honey-tongued promises of the Arch-Heretic Malidox Faceen! Yet the Imperium has never given back! We are used up in the name of their wars! Today I speak not of rebellion against an unjust, tyrannical overlord, but of standing up for our people, the soul of our world, and the promise made by the Imperium of Man to our forebears!" The Councillor allowed his features to take on a sorrowful look. "I fear, however, that no matter how eloquent or diplomatic our objection may be presented, it will fall on deaf ears. The bureaucrats of the Adeptus Terra heed deeds, not words." Councillor Silurii shook his head in disappointment. "With this in mind, it is my suggestion that we apply sanctions to the Tithes of the Imperium." He lowered his head, signifying that he was finished speaking. Enthusiastic applause echoed throughout the council room as he took his seat amongst his peers.

_Easy for you to suggest_ , Lazarus thought sourly. _If this passes, I should make you our representative_. "Thank you, Councillor Silurii," he said out loud. "Before Councillor Novarii offers his counter-argument, what sanctions do you speak of?"

Silurii rose to his feet once more. "That we withhold our sons and daughters from the Astra Militarum, cut off the flow of those exports that Adeptus Administratum requires of us, and deny the Adeptus Mechanicus the machines and parts from our Manufactorums." the Councillor replied mildly as if it were the most common suggestion in the world.  
Lazarus inclined his head in acknowledgement as Councillor Silurii resumed his seat. "Thank you, Councillor Silurii," he said before turning to look at Novarii. "Councillor, you have the floor."

Councillor Novarii stood and smoothed back his hair. "This is an unenlightened universe," he began. "It is a violent and uncaring place where the Xenos, the mutant, and the heretic plot to pull mankind down from the stars into the mud and filth at their feet." He sighed, a bit theatrically Lazarus thought. "Before the coming of the God-Emperor and the Imperium, we were afraid of the monster's hiding in the dark. His light and his Armies drove the enemies of man away from this system." 

He laced his fingers together in a gesture of piety. "While I sympathize with the tragic events that Councillor Silurii, his family, and son have endured, let us not forget the violence and upheaval of the Nelphi Conflict." Looking around the council room, Novarii took in the sombre looks on the faces of his supporters. "Not one hundred years ago, the sector burned under the fires of rebellion. How many billions died in that conflict?" The Councillor paused for dramatic effect. "Tell me, esteemed members of the Beli-Kur, does any here truly believe that we would be able to fight the Imperium?"

As if on cue, the lights in the Council room went out, leaving the flashes of lightning outside the Tower of Man as the only source of illumination. There was an audible gasp when revealed in the in-between moments of flickering lighting, two massive figures appeared standing to either side of the Imperial Governor's Throne.

Someone in the room screamed as the lights went out again, this time, the burnt orange of the Astartes helmet lenses and purring armour confirmed their presence. The lightning flashed, accompanied by the dull roar of thunder. When the lumens in the council room resumed operation, the sighs of relief were audible from multiple places in the room.

No one spoke. Every Councilor within the room stared in awe at the Astartes. Their battle plate was predominantly a deep cyan colour save for the trim of their pauldrons and the Imperialis upon their breastplates, which appeared to be made of carved bone. The marine to the right of the throne took a single weighty step forward. "I am Sargeant Kor of the Storm Talons Chapter of the Adeptus Astartes," he said, his voice growling from his helms vox emitter. "Brother Memnon stands with me here today." The other Astartes inclined his head. 

Lazarus somehow managed to find his voice. "Gre...gre...greetings Lords," he stammered. "Welcome to Beli Prime. We did not know that you had arrived, let alone that you were en route to our home. When did you make planetfall? To what do we owe the honour of your visit?"

Sargeant Kor turned his head to look at the Imperial Governor. "My squad arrived on Beli Prime ninety days ago, Governor Avenii." 

"Ninety days ago!" Lazarus exclaimed. "Why was I not informed?" He asked, looking at his aids and at the assembled Councillors. "Did anyone know?"

Memnon chuckled; his laughter was dark and abrasive, but it was the Sergeant who responded. "There were whispers that spoke of unrest plaguing this world. Of a populous that chafed under the...," the astartes paused. "The, so-called, unkind yolk of the Imperium. We heard the echoes of these whispers in the darkness and came to see the truth of it." The pause was ominous. "Shall we tell you what we have learned in the shadows, Governor Avenii?"

Lazarus swallowed nervously and then nodded slowly. "It would be our honour to hear what the Emperor's Angels have to say."

Sargeant Kor inclined his head before stepping down the steps and towards the speaker's podium. When he arrived, he undid the clasps of his helm to the hiss of seals releasing and placed it on the podium. Whispers raced back and forth through the assembly as Sargeant Kor's visage was revealed. His short-cropped hair was as black as the void, and his iris and sclera were an oily liquid black as well. Kor's skin was so pale that his veins were visible beneath it. Only his lips were possessed of any degree of colour, pale blue like that of a corpse. These he pulled back into a smile that on another's face could have eased tensions but, in his case, made him appear like a grinning cadaver. Albeit a transhuman one.

"Members of the Beli-Kur, I greet you in the name of Captain Ashur, Praetor Rein of the Storm Talons, and in the name of the Emperor of Mankind," Kor said making the sign of the Aquila, his voice now rich and vibrant freed from the tonal distortion of his helmet's vox grill. "Nearly five solar years have passed since the first whispers of discontent made it to our ears. This is not unusual. The lives of the larger portion of humanity are short, ugly, and, more often than not, violent."

"Lord, please, a moment," Councillor Novarii said, rising to his feet.

"Yes, Councillor Zacharus Ban Novarii?"

Novarii nervously smoothed down his hair. "Your Chapter has been aware of the situation here on Beli-Prime for five years?"

The Sargent nodded. "Yes. Longer actually, our Intelligence gathering is second to none, but I digress. Just because we are aware of a thing, does not mean that it is worthy of our attention."

"Suffering is not worthy of your attention?" Novarii asked, his incredulity outweighing his awe of the Astartes.

The marine held up a hand to stop Novarii from continuing. "Before you take offence, Councillor, allow me to explain. The Imperium is vast. The Astartes are comparatively few. The savants of the Imperium believe that there are approximately one Astartes per inhabited planet within its borders."

"Meaning?"

"That you should appreciate the fact that we even pay attention to situations better handled by other branches of the Imperium." The other Astartes, Memnon, growled through his helmet. He seemed to want to say more but abruptly stopped as Sargeant Kor's gaze slowly shifted from the Councillor to him.

Kor looked back at Councilor Novarii. "My brother's response is tactless, but the basic premise is correct. The Storm Talons, like every other Chapter, are the tip of the blade… the point of the spear. We are the Emperor's Wrath made manifest, and as such, we bear the burdens others cannot. There is no end to the theatres of war that could benefit from the presence of the Astartes. So no, we do not respond to those where others are enough to carry the day." 

Lazarus shifted on his throne, sure that every Councillor in the room understood the message that Sargeant Kor was imparting. The struggles that Beli-Prime was experiencing had been deemed initially to be resolved by the PDF, Adeptus Arbites, Imperial Guard, or some combination thereof. "What has changed, Sargeant?" he asked, a sinking feeling had developed in his stomach. "Why is your squad here? Now?"

The Astartes were quiet for a moment before Sargeant Kor responded. "The Stormlord has witnessed the results of what happens here today," he said ominously. "His vision sets our hands in motion."

Murmurs and whispers echoed around the council hall. Lazarus caught the words heresy, tyranny, narcissism, and ruinous powers - the last causing a chill to run through his veins. If he could hear those whispers and murmurs, could not the Astartes as well? Lazarus stood, and the hall went silent. Holding up his hands in a gesture of placation, he addressed the Council. "Councillors, please. Restrain yourselves and do not give into idle gossip." Looking down from the throne of the Imperial Governor, he addressed Sargeant Kor. "Lord Kor, who is the Stormlord? Of the Praetor of Volos, all here has heard. Your noble Chapter Master has made a name for himself since the formation of the Storm Talons."

"He is our Chief Librarian, Lord Governor, and his eye sees much that is clouded to mortal men," Kor replied.

"And he has ordered your squad to come to Beli-Prime?"

"Correct, Lord Governor."

Lazarus paused and then asked. "Where is the rest of your Squad Sergeant? Surely it is not just the two of you."

Sargeant Kor shook his head. "The remainder of Squad Kor is engaged in rooting out corruption and treason elsewhere on Belo-Prime."

"Treason?" Councillor Suluriiiii asked, sitting back down amongst his peers. 

"Yes, Councillor, we are to extract the Emperor's due from the flesh of those who would hide their face from His light."

Councillor Novarii spoke next. "Your Squad is actively engaged in this endeavour?"

Sargeant, Kor nodded. "They are meeting out justice as we speak."

"These traitors must be well buried," Councillor Festus Ban Bolvacii commented snidely to the Councillor beside him. Bolvacii was an ugly man. Too many years of Amasec, sumptuous food, and lascivious entertainment had left their mark on his now generous frame. 

"Indeed they were, Councillor," Memnon responded. "In fact, my brother's are illuminating the nobility of Hive Bolvacii as we speak."

Bolvacii went pale and stared at the helmed Space Marine incredulously. "What do you mean? The Noble House Bolvacii has been loyal since the day the Beli Prime's Imperial Charter was signed!"

"It is as Brother Memnon says, Councillor," Sargeant Kor replied calmly. "Specific members of the Bolvacii household were suspected of Treason and therefore ordered detained if possible."

"If possible?" Bolvacii's voice raised an octave. "What does that mean?"

"Come now, Festus," Lazarus said somewhat sadly. "We all know what the noble Sargeant means. I'm curious though, even with the element of surprise, a force of Space Marines assaulting any of Beli Prime's Hives would have garnered attention. We would know of it unles…" He paused and pressed the small vox bead on his collar. "Maideen, are you in communication with the other Hives? Yes... but... what?" Lazarus Ban Avenii listened intently to the vox for a minute then ended the transmission before slowly sitting down on the throne.

"What is the matter, Avenii?" Councillor Novarii asked. "What did your secretary have to say?:

"Allow me, Lord Governor," Sergeant Kor offered. Lazarus stared blankly at the Astartes. When the mortal didn't respond, he continued. "The Lord Governor's Secretary has been unsuccessful in contacting all but one of the smaller hives."

Nearly one hundred voices started talking all at once. "Which ones?" A male voice asked. "Why can't we reach them?" Another questioned, this time female. "Surely a single squad of Space Marines can't do all this?" Another female voice stated in disbelief. 

"What happens now?" Demanded Councillor Silluri, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise. His fists were clenched behind his back as he stared at the transhuman standing at the podium.

Sargeant Kor replaced his helm and stepped down from the podium. "Now, Councillor, we wait."

"For what?"

"Evidence of guilt." the senior Astarte's reply growled through his vox grill as he made his way back to stand at the right hand of the Governor's throne. "Evidence of Treason." 

"We will not stand for this!" Councillor Novarii stood as well. 

Councillor Volcae rose to his feet. "This is an attack on the Sovereignty of Beli-Prime!" Other voices rose in support. A few Councillors remained quiet and in their seats.

The Lord Governor, however, was watching the Storm Talons. Memnon's gauntleted hand now rested nonchalantly on the butt of his bolt pistol. Sargeant Kor stood motionless, patiently awaiting confirmation from his brothers. _There will be violence here tonight_ , Lazarus thought. Pressing a command stud on the Throne, Lazarus activated the vox casters cunningly hidden throughout the chamber. "Councillors!" He cried. "Be at ease! Volcae, Novari, please. Sit down."  
  
"But Lazarus!" Councillor Novarii began to protest. "This must not…"

Lazarus interrupted the Councillor. "I do not ask as a member of this Council, Councillor Novarii. This is an order from your Imperial Governor. Cease!" Glancing down to his right, Lazarus found himself looking at Sargeant Kor directly in his glowing helmet lenses. "Explain yourself, Sargeant. Hives Novarii, Silurii, and Volcae are not responding. I assume that you are blocking vox communications as part of your 'investigations'?

"Correct Governor," Kor replied. "All we wait on now is confirmation."

"Confirmation," Lazarus mused. "That means you have targets already, does it not?"

"It does, Governor."

More yelling, this time indistinct and full of panic, filled the Council Chamber. Members of the Beli-Kur frantically tried calling out on their personal vox casters, argued with one another, and laid accusations of blame at each other's feet. Amidst it all, Lazarus Ban Avenii sat on the Imperial Governor's Throne and smiled, enjoying the spectacle of it all despite the seriousness of the situation. "What comes next?" He asked.

There was a slight sigh from Brother Memnon. "Atonement and punishment upon a Saltire for those who were unaware of the poison running through their houses," He replied. "A painful death for those who participated in or spearheaded it."

"I see. So none of the Beli-Kur will escape without at least spending time on the cross."

"Correct Lord Governor." Sargeant Kor said, inclining his head in acknowledgement. "Even you shall not leave this place unscathed."

*******************************************************************************

Sargeant Kor and Brother Memnon stood beside one another on the small landing pad at the summit of Hive Avenii, the rain washing away the blood that coated their cyan coloured plate. They watched as the advanced sensors in their helms detected the approach of the Thunderhawk sent to retrieve them. 

The pacification of Beli Prime was over. Examples had been made, and Brother Memnon was satisfied that the lessons the two Astartes had imparted upon the Council would not be forgotten soon. Of the one hundred nobles of the Beli-Kur, a third of the Council still lived bound to a Saltair driven into the floor of the council chambers. Even the Lord Governor had been made an example of, albeit less than his fellows. Kor had been unusually understanding of the situation that faced Lazarus ban Avenii.

"With all due respect, Brother Sargeant, I feel that your leniency is misplaced," Memnon growled. "House Avenii is as guilty as any other."

"True, Brother, they are," The Sargeant replied. "However, the Governor is new to the throne. The majority of the blame lies with his father. Taking and consuming his eye as he watched the Council being bound and excruciated or flayed alive while suffering the torments of the Raptor's Kiss will suffice."

The space marine grunted. "As you say, Sargeant."

Kor laughed as the Thunderhawk came into visual range. "You are a barbarian, Memnon. The fear we have seeded in the minds of the Belisians will echo down the ages. They will remain loyal. They will remain industrious. They will not want the attention of the Storm Talons again."

  
"And if they do not?" Memnon asked as he leapt onto the lowering crew ramp.

Sargent Kor looked back at the lightning wreathed spire for a moment as if in thought. He started up the ramp, passing his fellow Storm Talon into the crew compartment. "Then, they will burn."


	2. Tempest Keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Squad Kor returns to the Fortress Monastery carrying a relic with them recovered from Beli Prime as a secondary mission objective. The Council of Nine is in session when they return and Sargeant Kor is called before them to report his findings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed how I put together a chapter a little bit. No longer will you see ******************** denoting the change of scene within a chapter. Instead, I'm going to use "descriptors" such as:
> 
> Volos Secundus  
> Heavenspire Mountains  
> Tempest Keep
> 
> Hopefully, that will be more thematically appropriate.

_Volos Secundus_  
_Heavenspire Mountains_  
_Tempest Keep_

The Thunderhawk Sable Wind screamed as it breached Volos Secundus' atmosphere bearing the members of Squad Kor. As it slowed its descent, the blue-grey stone of the Chapter Monastery of the Storm Talons came into view nestled among the peaks of the Heavenspire Mountains. Even after hailing the Keep and being given landing clearance, the anti-aircraft guns of the Keep tracked the Thunderhawl's path as it neared the fortress.

"I shall never tire of the sight of Tempest rising from the snowy peaks around her," he said softly, the astartes pilot nodded in agreement. 

"Brother Sargeant," The co-pilot said, getting Kor's attention. "Tempest Control has relayed a request for you from the Stormlord. You are to report to the Hall of the Nine upon arrival for debriefing."

"Understood, Brother Helyez," he replied. "Brother Trajom, Please convey both our thanks and compliments to the Master of the Forge." Sargeant Kor said to the Pilot.

"As you wish, Brother Sargeant."

The Tempest Keep, Fortress Monastery of the Storm Talons, was a formidable edifice of stone and metal. It's fortifications, and weapons platforms rose above even the tallest of peaks. Its halls and corridors delved deeply into the roots of the mountains. Discovered by the Stormlord on the eve of his ascension to the Librarius. The facility which comprised the bones of the Keep were laid during the Dark Age of the Technology. The ancient facility had given up its secrets slowly to the founding Brotherhood of the Storm Talons. What they discovered excited the Red Priests of Mars significantly enough that they lavished the Storm Talon's fortress with the highest quality weapon systems and defences available.

Sargeant Kor and his squad disembarked from the Thunderhawk just as soon as the crew ramp touched the rockcrete surface of the landing pad. A booming, grinding sound echoed up from below them as the landing pad began to retreat into the vast elevator shaft, travelling one hundred feet below into the cavern-like hanger. Kor looked up to see the ten-meter thick blast shielding closing above them.

"In the centuries to come, do you think Tempest will find itself besieged or becalmed Brothers?" Brother Daon asked, following his Sargeant's gaze.

"Woe to those who challenge these halls." Brother Makkru responded. "The Red Priests and our Red Brothers have made her walls thick, her guns loud, and her furnaces deep."

Brothers Zu and Tu, twins by birth, nodded in agreement. "That and whatever Company served as the Wardens at the time would make them pay a butcher's bill for every inch of ground," Tu said with a smile. 

"I tell you truly, I would not want to be assaulting Tempest at the best of times, let alone if it were the Stormborn or the Gloomshades engaged as Wardens!" Zu laughed. 

Namtar unlocked and removed his helm, shaking out his long black hair. "A rare situation that would be." He said, likewise smiling. "Captain Brakus and Captain Ashur are not known for remaining idle."

"Our turn will come," Sargeant Kor said, also removing his helm. "Protecting hearth and home is an honour that our beloved Captain and Captain Brakus will embrace when the time comes."

"I hear that Captain Remeus wanders the darkened halls of Tempest in expectation of a release from his cage." Brother Ivae growled through his helm's external vox caster. "The Stalkers have been tied to the post for too long."

Brother Hasani likewise removed his helm, chuckling as he did so. His scarred scalp covered with memento mori themed tattoos. "Captain Remeus stalks the halls of Tempest," His rich voice rumbled over the word. "He's the soul of a murderer that one."

Kor grunted. "Such comments are not to be voiced in public Hasani." Privately, Kor agreed with the assessment. Captain Remeus was a dark and well-honed blade in the Chapter's arsenal. The entire Fifth Company followed their Captain's example. However, as Wardens, they did not seem to pass on their shadowy ways to the Novitiates they trained. After all, Brother Rissvul and others had ascended to a full Astartes under their tutelage and did not seem to gravitate to the Stalker's way of making war.

"Mea culpa, Sargeant," Hasani said, lowering his head slightly. 

In response, Kor banged a fist onto the top of Hasani's pauldron. "Cogitato in corde tuo, Brother." Hasani nodded in 

As the landing pad continued to lower itself into position, Squad Kor leapt down the remaining three meters. Together they approached one of the rapid transport modules that were kept for the exclusive use of the Astartes. As the ten astartes approached, the hardwired servitor turned its head towards them. "Destination?" It inquired through the vox speaker embedded in its throat.

Kor barely paid the wretched creature any attention. "Primary Lift hub with departure for one. Second Company barracks for nine additional," He said, climbing into the transport.

"Do you want company Brother-Sargeant?" Memnon asked as he climbed into the seat beside Kor. In his hands, he carried a sizeable metallic stasis casket the colour of old iron.

Kor was silent for a moment. "No," he answered. "Bring that to the barracks for the time being." He said, looking directly at the stasis casket.

Memnon nodded. "Will do."

As the last member of Squad Kor sat in the oversized seats, the restraint harnesses folded over the astartes like the legs of a gigantic arachnid restraining its prey. "Please ensure that limbs and weapons remain inside the transport at all times," the servitor announced. "In addition, please ensure that any cargo is restrained under the gravimetric dome for transport."

"Proceed," Kor said, impatient to get going. It would not do to keep his superiors waiting. 

"Affirmative," the half-man half-machine replied. The transport started out slowly but quickly gathered speed as it approached the switching point. The main thoroughfares of Tempest Keep were designed to support travel along multiple surfaces, including the walls and roof as well as the floor. In this way, traffic could be avoided, and rapid egress from one part of the fortification to another could be accomplished.

Sargeant Kor could see the maniples of the switching point re-arranging the magnetic tracks as the transport approached it. Bracing himself against the harness, Kor sent a vox squirt to the squad to warn them. Seconds later, the carrier was rushing along the roof of the transit tunnel. Most of the transports moving back and forth did so along the floor of the tunnel, but the occasional single or dual occupancy transports joined Squad Kor's transport racing along the roof.

It was not a short journey to the central hub. "Brother-Sargeant," began Riisvul. "Is it normal for a Sargeant to be debriefed separately from the rest of the squad?" 

"The ways of the Stormborn and Gloomshades are different from the other eight Companies Brother," Kor replied. "Just as those of the Stalkers are."

"Decades of operations alone with the Raven Guard have bound the Brothers of the first and Second companies together in odd ways, Riisvul." Added Memnon. "Our traditions are different, wilder than those of the third through tenth." 

Riisvul, who had ascended to the ranks of the astartes during the fifth company's time as Wardens, was well aware that differences existed between the Ten Companies. "Yet we are all of the same Chapter," he said, somewhat sullenly.

Sargeant Kor chuckled at the young astartes' tone. "We are, and I suspect that the wildness that Brother Memnon speaks of will fade," He said, putting voice to the thoughts he had found himself considering for the first time. "The first and second companies matured under the Raven Guard, but that was not so for all." Zor and Tor, who had been speaking together quietly, stopped to listen to him. "While we made war beneath the wings of the Raven Gaurd's Third Company, other Chapters imparted their experiences to the rest of our Brothers."

"It doesn't help that the Fifth, Seventh, and Tenth companies mostly consist of those trained by the Raptors," Makkru said.

Namtar raised an eyebrow. "I take umbrage with your implications, Brother. I was a novice under the Raptors," he growled.

Makkru laughed and slapped his brother on the chest plate. "I mean no offence Brother, only that those trained by the Raptors benefited from a radically different view than the rest of us."

Namtar stared at his brother for a moment and then smiled suddenly. "It's alright Brother, I can't stay angry at those less fortunate."

Kor and the rest of the squad started laughing. Makkru frowned and stared at Namtar for a moment. "What's that supposed to mean?" Namtar laughed in response and shook his head. "No, really?!" Makkru exclaimed as the squad's laughter echoed down the corridor behind them. 

The entire squad was still in good spirits when the transport reached another switching point and returned to the ground level rails. As the transport vehicle slowed to a stop, Sargeant Kor stepped out and turned to his squad. "Return to the barracks and get a little bit of R&R. I'm sure that this will only be a brief respite."

"Understood," They responded in unison as the transport module began to slide forward again. Kor watched them as the transport module raced away. When it switched to moving along the roof of the corridor, Kor turned away and faced the bronze inlaid plasteel doors that lead from the transport hub into the area of the Keep known as the Hall of the Nine.

Two battle-brothers, armed with ornate master-crafted greatswords and armoured in artificer crafted battle-plate, stood before the inlaid doors. Helmed and with their gauntleted hands crossed over the pommels of their weapons, they barred the way into the council chamber. Tradition dictated that when a company took up the role of Wardens, they replaced their personal weapons and armour with those maintained by the Master of the Forge specifically for the Wardens. As such, the pair guarding the doors wore no heraldry beyond that of the Chapter. "Brothers," He greeted them as he approached.

"Sargeant Kor," the Astartes on the left greeted him in return. "The Stormlord and Praetor Rein await your presence along with the Council of Nine."

"The entire council is in attendance?" Kor asked, stopping before the doors.

The Astartes on the right nodded. "They are, along with the Warden." He stood to one side. "By order of the Stormlord, we grant you entrance into the Hall of the Nine, Brother Sargeant." 

Kor inclined his head. "Thank you, brothers." He said as he proceeded past them and into the Hall of the Nine.

The corridor leading into the Hall was wide enough for three astartes to stand abreast, shoulder to shoulder. The interior walls of the corridor were carved from the very stone of the mountains and set with glowing luminescent orbs. His ceramite boots echoing with every step, Kor proceeded down its length until he reached the Hall itself.

The walls of the Hall of the Nine had been cut from the very stone of the mountain. It still bore the markings of the machines that shaped it sometime in the long-forgotten past. As they had each time he had entered the place, the lifelike mosaics covering the walls left him breathless with their dazzling realism. Every surface of the walls was covered by tile mosaics portraying the first fully-fledged battles of the Storm Talons. Here was a work representing Praetor Rein strangling the life from the Ork Warboss Dom Thrakka during the purge of Urchene. There, a mosaic of the Stormlord calling down a column of his signature cerulean lightning, bringing death to the heretical armies of the Imperial General Hazen. 

The floor of the Hall was recessed two feet lower than that of the corridor. In the centre of the room stood a rough-hewn rounded bluestone table around which were arrayed nine caved thrones of the same material. Each of the thrones was occupied by the nine active captains of the Chapter. Only three of them, Captain Ashur of the Second, Captain Narik of the Fourth, and Captain Lok Ur of the Seventh, were physically in attendance. The remaining Captains attended via holographic emitters built into the thrones.

Around the outer perimeter of the Hall set at equidistant points from each other were six additional thrones. Chapter Master Rein, arrayed in Artificer Crafted Terminator Armour, sat in the largest of the thrones. To his left sat Saeg, the Stormlord and Chief Librarian and on his right sat High Chaplain Caposis. The Stormlord sat unhelmed, his Aegis hood glowing softly in the low light of the Hall. Like most of the Chaplains of the Storm Talons, Caposis rarely removed his skull-shaped helm. The reptilian skin of an Oluje sat hoodlike over the shoulders and crest of his helm. Beside the Stormlord sat Proseus, Master of the Forge. Crafted by his own hand, his massive and uniquely modified battle-plate bosted numerous mechadendrites that waved slightly like tree branches caught in a breeze. Sitting beside High Chaplain Caposis, Chief Apothecary Arakel sat in his own customized battle-plate, the blades and needles of his Narthecium glinting in the half-light.

The final throne, reserved for the Captain of the Wardens, was empty. Instead, Captain Remeus paced back and forth. As the Warden's sole responsibility was to function as the Keep's guardians, their Captain's voice was raised only where it's defence was concerned. A situation that seemed dissatisfying to the Master of the Fifth. Captain Remeus looked up and met eyes with Sargeant Kor as he entered the Hall proper and inclined his head.

"Sargeant Kor," The deep and measured voice of his Chapter Master reached him. "Tempest Keep welcomes you and your squad home."

Kor lowered himself to one knee. "Praetor," Kor bowed his head. "It is good to be back."

"Rise Sargeant, and tell us of your mission."

Kor's plate growled as he rose to stand before the Council of Nine. "The Stormlord approached me four months ago with a mission," he began his report. "My squad was to be instrumental in preventing an uprising on the planet of Beli Prime."

Praetor Rein turned his head slightly to look at the Stormlord, who nodded briefly. "I witnessed the rise of those disenfranchised by the heavy hand of the Imperium," Saeg said softly. "Though the names of the betrayers were not revealed to me, that they arose in the highest reaches of Beli Prime's Hives' ruling families was."

"Continue, please, Kor."

The Sargeant inclined his head. "Yes, Praetor." He cleared his throat before continuing. "We arrived on the planet under cover of one of the major storms Beli Prime has become known for. Within the first few weeks, we had infiltrated the vox and cogitator networks of the upper hive spires and had been listening to their chatter."

Captain Ashur smiled. "Brothers Daon and Namtar benefit from specialist training provided by the Red Brothers of the Forge and rank amongst the best Intelligence Officers available in the Chapter."

"Indeed Brother-Captain Ashur," Kor said, bowing to his Company Captain. "Between them, Brothers Daon and Namtar were able to identify encoded transmissions between the various members of the ruling noble houses." He paused. "I won't bore you with the specifics, but based on the information gleaned by Daon and Namtar, I assigned two-man teams to the various hives and then spent the next sixty days identifying those involved in the plot."

"How widespread was the plot?" Captain Brakus asked, the holo projection flickering as he spoke.

"The treason had spread amongst the ruling houses of the hives but only at the apex," Kor replied. "The lower-ranking members of the noble houses were, for the most part, innocent."

Captain Remeus snorted at the word "innocent" but remained silent. "After we identified those leading the plot, we waited for almost thirty days for the next large storm to ravage the planet." More than a few of the Captains sitting around the central table nodded, knowing what would come next. "Brother Memnon and I infiltrated Hive Avenii as our two man teams verified and then punished the traitors hiding within the noble houses of the other hives."

"We have reviewed the footage recorded by Squad Kor's armour systems," High Chaplain Caposis rumbled. "The denizens of Beli Prime will not soon forget the terrors' Squad Kor inspired that night. 

"The choler my brothers demonstrated pales in comparison to the punishment Brother Memnon, and I unleashed on the Council of Beli-kur."

The projection of Captain Basir of the Eighth company raised an eyebrow. "No member of the Council remained untouched by your ministrations," he chided. "You performed the Raptor's Kiss on the majority. You bound those deemed 'innocent' to a saltire and lashed them with the entrails of those who had succumbed to the Kiss, and then consumed the Lord Governor's eye as he watched. How can you be confident that you have not sown the seeds of rebellion within the noble houses?"

Sargeant Kor looked at the projection. "The Council was in session when Brother Memnon and I arrived, Captain Basir. The nobles of the Beli-Kur were tabling a resolution whose end result would be to rebel against the Imperium. When we finally made ourselves known, the traitors had already begun to make their move. That demanded we leave a more...lasting impression upon the Lord Governor and his court."

"Squad Kor acted within their remit," Though his voice remained quiet, the Stormlord's words carried to every corner of the Hall. "The results of their actions already weighed against the future that threatened had they not acted."

"Which was?"

Saeg smiled in amusement. "A war that would see the Beli system consumed in a heretical fire, Brother-Captain. One that would rob this sector of the system's resources." Captain Basir waved his hand in acknowledgement of Saeg's words. "Please continue Sargeant," Saeg requested.

"There isn't much more to report, Lord," Kor said, reflecting on the events. "The noble families of the Hives were culled. Those that championed the idea of rebellion was made a bloody example of." Crossing his hands behind him, Kor continued. "Those with active involvement in the plot were granted the Kiss as were those who looked the other way. Those nobles who were innocent of involvement or knowledge were crucified on a saltier within the Council chamber, including the Lord Governor, as Captain Basir mentioned."

"Thank you, Sargeant. Brothers, do you believe that will be enough to ensure the Lord Governor and the nobles of Beli Prime remain loyal?" The Chapter Master asked of the assembled astartes assembled.

"Rebellion is a constant threat," Captain Brakus of the Stormborn said, the holographic projection giving his voice a slightly tinny sound. "The life of the common man or woman within the Imperium is short and violent and easily leads to discontentment. While I believe that the actions taken by Squad Kor will quell the pro-rebellion sentiments in the population for a while, it will rear it's head again." 

"Except now, the people of Beli-Prime know that while they may not see us, they live beneath our watchful gaze." Captain Narik of the Fourth Company pointed out.

Captain Haephur, Master of the Sixth, spoke next. "Man forgets," He growled through an augmetic jaw and some kind low-level interference that caused his holographic projection to waver. "We will remind him as often as required."

"Well said Captain Haephur," High Chaplain Caposis' rasped through the vox grill of his skull-shaped helm.

The Chapter Master nodded. "Indeed. If there is nothing else required of Sargeant Kor, Brothers?" He waited for a moment before continuing. "No? So be it. You are dismissed, Sargeant. Return to your squad and welcome home."

Kor bowed his head. "My thanks, Praetor. My Lords." Taking two steps backwards, he turned on his heel and exited the Hall. The assembled lords of the Chapter watched him enter the hallway and proceed towards the door.

+In one hour I will come to retrieve the fruits of your secondary objective Sargeant Kor.+ The Stormlord's subtle voice echoed in his thought, causing him to pause for a half step. +I am most interested in your success.+

_Tempest Keep_  
_2nd Company Barracks_  
_Squad Kor Arming Chambers_

  
By the time Kor returned to the Second Company's barracks, most of his squad had removed their armour and had released it into the care of the arming serfs for repairs. Memnon remained bolted into his battle plate and was chatted quietly with Daon when Kor entered the chamber. On the bench beside him lay the stasis casket Kor had entrusted him with. He looked up as Kor entered the space set aside of his squad. "How was the Nine?" 

Kor grunted. "All in attendance," he replied.

"That's unusual," Memnon said with a slight frown.

Kor shrugged. "I suspect that they were deciding on who would replace the Stalkers as Wardens. Captain Remeus was pacing like a caged beast when I entered."

"We spoke to Brother Niktos when we arrived in the barracks, he seems to think that Captain Lok Ur will stand as Warden next," Daon said as he began to disassembled his bolter to clean it.

Kor shrugged. "Lok Ur and the Seventh are a sold choice. They've been engaged in operations for nearly a decade now without rest." He nodded at the stasis casket sitting beside Memnon. "Pass me the relic."

The other astartes lifted the stasis casket and handed it to his Sargeant. "Give the Stormlord my regards."

Kor smiled slightly. "Give them to him yourself, Brother. I'll be in my arming chamber when he arrives." Doan and Memnon glanced at one another as Kor turned and headed towards the side room set aside for him as Sargeant.

It was approximately two hours later that the Chief Librarian of the Storm Talons arrived. Kor, now dressed in simple fatigues, had already removed his armour. His battle-plate had been sent for repairs and re-sanctification by the Red Brothers. He sat re-assembling the inner mechanisms of his bolt pistol when he looked up to see the psyker standing there. Brother Saeg, the Stormlord, was respected not only as one of the founders of the Chapter. He was also a force of nature on the battlefield. Now he stood at the threshold of Kor's arming chamber dressed in his heavy artificer battle-plate. Trinkets and purity seals encrusted ceramite plates etched with esoteric symbols, the meaning of which alluded the Sargeant. 

"Greetings, Sargeant Kor," the Stormlord said, inclining his head slightly. He held out a restraining hand as Kor began to rise. "Please, brother, remain seated." 

"Lord," Kor acknowledged as he returned to his bench. "You do me great honour meeting me here rather than in the Librarius."

Saeg smiled warmly. "You have done me a great service, brother," he said, looking around the spartan space of the arming chamber. "I do not often have the opportunity to visit others in their own domains."

Kor laughed at that. "Well, my lord, my arming chamber is honoured by your presence." He reached for the dark iron stasis casket beside him and sliding a hidden panel open on the lid, punched in a seventy-seven alphanumeric code. The catch of the stasis casket clicked, and he stood, presenting it to the Librarian as the stasis field within collapsed. "It was right where you said it would be Lord, in the tech vaults of House Bolvacii." 

Saeg nodded as he opened the lid of the stasis casket. Within, laying on a black velvet cushion, was a clawed gauntlet with an oversized fist and re-enforced vambrace. The relic was charred black, the enamel burned away in places down to the dull gray of unpainted ceramite. While clearly crafted by the hands of a master, it bore no Chapter symbols or Imperial iconography that Kor recognized. Seag reached in and reverently lifted it from the stasis casket. "Magnificent." the Stormlord whispered as he held the gauntlet in his hands.

"What is it?" Kor asked. Saeg shifted his gaze from the relic to look at him. "I mean, I can tell that it's astartes plate and well made but other than that…" 

Saeg returned the gauntlet to the box and lifted the vambrace, turning it in his hands to examine the thick armour. "It is one of the Claws of Saas-ur," he said reverently as he placed the vambrace back in the casket. "They are a unique set of lightning claws."

"Lightning claws?" Kor repeated with a frown. "Truly? They appear more compact than any example of those weapons I have ever seen."

In the quiet of the arming chamber, Kor heard a small click as the locking mechanism on the Stormlord's gauntlet released. "They are indeed unique," Saeg said as touched his fingertips to the back of the Claw just behind the knuckles. Slowly three blades of black metal veined with silver traceries slid from cunningly concealed housings on the rear of the fist; cerulean blue lightning danced softly along their length. 

Kor grunted with surprise. "Those aren't powered by a field generator, are they?"

The Stormlord smiled. The light of his power shining in his eyes and along the length of the blades of the Claw. "No Brother," Saeg replied, lifting his fingertips and watching the blades retreat back into their housings. "They are made of some kind of psychic reactive metal of unknown origin."

"Force Claws?"

"Indeed," The Stormlord said, closing the casket's lid. "And Squad Kor will be accompanying me on a mission to retrieve the other Claw. Captain Ashur will give you your orders officially tomorrow."

Sargeant Kor bowed slightly. "As you say, Stormlord. Squad Kor is at your service."


	3. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saeg, now known as the Stormlord, has managed to locate and procure one of the Claws of Saas-ur. These ancient lightning claws are unique in design and construction, allowing the wearer to channel psychic energies into the blades. The remaining claw once thought lost to the warp, may have resurfaced along with a hulk of unknown origin. Out in the vastness of space, an old threat, silent for many long years begins to awaken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author note: This chapter took a very long time to write. As someone who is considered essential, I haven't had much time to work on it, stealing small snatches of time to work on it whenever the chance offered itself. If you're still here after my long absence, thank you. If you're just finding my works, welcome and I hope you enjoy it!

_ Volos Secundus _ _   
_ _ Tempest Keep Librarius _ _   
_ _ Sanctuary of the Stormlord _

In the bowels of Tempest Keep, a mere two levels above where the Red Brothers of the Forge worked their craft, was the lowest level of the Librarius. Rotten wood, cracked stone, and scorched rockrete had given way to seamless black obsidian walls. Runes and esoteric symbols had been carved into the volcanic rock and inlaid with silver. The amphitheatre was now Saeg's sanctuary.

The ancient tiers of the stepped stone that had made up the seating area had been cleansed of old blood and refinished before more runes and silver were carved and inlaid. Where people had sat watching performances seated on elegant cushioned seats, there now stood rows and rows of packed shelves, display cabinets, and even stands covered with all manner of exotic weapons and armours.

Captain Ashur of the Second Company slowly descended the steps cut into the center of the stone tiers. He shook his head and smiled. During his novitiate, he never would have expected that Saeg would end up a member of the Librarius, let alone it's Chief Librarian! Things had certainly changed over the last fifty years. He, like his brothers, had changed significantly in that time. Like all Storm Talons, he possessed the too-pale skin and solid black eyes. His former curly blond locks had deepened to jet black, though he retained his curls. The scars and the glowing blue bionic eye were simply more changes.

The Stormlord's remodelling of the amphitheatre had also included completely removing the stage and the orchestral pits and filling them with stone tables covered with odd implements and sheets of parchment. Curious devices sat on display on short columns or the focus of research on one of the work desks. _The Librarius has been busy._ He thought to himself, examining a scrimshawed leg bone from some unknown species. 

"Brother," the soft tones of Saeg's voice greeted him. That the Captain of the Gloomshades had not heard his approach was impressive. 

Ashur turned and looked at Saeg eye to eye for the first time in a long while. "Brother," he replied.

Saeg regarded him cooly, his eyebrow arched. _Emperor, he does have a Scholamaster's glare, doesn't he?_ Ashur mused before grinning. "Saeg, my brother! It's been too long!" He stepped forward, hand outstretched. Saeg grinned and grasped Ashur's arm, wrist to wrist.

"Ashur! Come! Let us sit and talk of long-forgotten days!" Saeg said, leading his friend through the well-organized scattering of academic research and practical study to a pair of astartes sized chairs of solid wood. "Can I offer you a drink, Captain?"

With a grunt, Ashur lowered himself into the chair, wincing as it creaked under his weight. "As long as it's not that Mjod you got from the Wolves." He said grimacing. "I swear, the sons of Fenris enjoy a drink that is as hard and unforgiving as their planet."

Saeg laughed. "They would agree with your sentiment, I think." He returned and handed Ashur a large earthenware mug. It smelled of summer and freshly pressed fruits and the slight bitterness of herbs.

Ashur raised an eyebrow as he took the mug. "Vassa?" He asked. Saeg nodded as Ashur took a long draught. "Oh," he sighed in satisfaction. "I've missed that." He leaned back. "To think the natives of the homeworld would have created such a drink that could set fire the senses of an Astartes."

Saeg sat in the chair across from Ashur. "The Apothecarium did some testing. It turns out that one of the medicinal herbs acts as a mild stimulant."

"Odd that our genetic inheritance is susceptible to a mild stimulant."

"Marja cheated, it seems." Saeg smiled a bit wistfully.

"Marja, one of your housecarls, is she not?" Ashur asked. "She must be very old now."

"Was," the Stormlord replied, "She's passed on now. Her daughter Katja now serves in her stead. It was Katja that made the Vassa we are drinking, and it was she who revealed that her mother cheated." 

Ashur snorted into his mug. The effects of the Vassa didn't last long, but they were refreshing nonetheless. "Cheated?"

"Marja was put out that we did not 'appreciate' her Vassa the first time she offered us." He sat back, smiling at the memory. The image of a young Marja offering the Astartes buckets of the stuff when first the Storm Talons had come upon the mountain tribe resolved in his mind's eye. "She was determined to improve on the recipe."

"I don't remember not liking it."

Saeg shrugged. "Nor do I, but Katja states that the fact that her mother's Vassa had no effect on the Astartes put old Marja out."

Ashur chuckled. "That sounds like Marja. She appears to have been successful."

"Aye, After triple distilling the herb and mushroom mixture she came up with into a strong tincture," Saeg replied with a grin. "What you've consumed would kill a baseline human, and it's already diluted."

Ashur grinned. "We should ask the White Brothers if they can weaponize it," They both shared a chuckle, knowing that the Chief Apothecary had probably already done so. "So," the Commander of the Gloomshades said, finishing off his cup. "Why did you call me here?"

"You are aware that Squad Kor was successful in all aspects of their mission?" Saeg asked, placing his cup down on a small table beside him.

Ashur nodded. "I am. The relic you suspected was on Beli Prime had been delivered into your care." He drained the last of the Vassa and placed the cup down on the side table.

Saeg nodded. "Indeed," He stood and walked over to one of the stone workbenches gesturing for him to follow. 

Joining him, Ashur whistled when he saw what sat in the center of the table. The oversized gauntlet and vambrace were more substantial than the standard astartes plate but smaller than any set of lightning claws in the Storm Talon's armoury. "This is one of the fabled Claws of Saas-ur then?" He asked, leaning down to get a better view of the fine details.

"Well, after Proseus adapted them to my design," Saeg touched the relic and let a small trickle of psychic energy flow into the vambrace housing. Three impossibly sharp blades slowly extended from their sheath within ceramite. Cerulean lightning, the Stormlord's hallmark, crawled along the edges like tiny serpents as he added a little more power. "Twenty years I've hunted for any word of them since discovering mention of them in the Raven Guard Librarius. To finally have one of them in my possession is gratifying." He removed his fingertips, and the blades retracted back into their housing. "I would like to formally request Sargeant Kor and his Squad to assist me in retrieving the remaining one."

Ashur turned his head and looked at his brother with a critical eye. After a moment, he nodded. "As you wish. However, in exchange, I would like to borrow one or two of your Lexicanium for the duration of the assault on the Ork stronghold on Baldra."

"Brothers Tephius and Sangris have already received their orders to join your company along with Codicer Nazar," Saeg replied. "Is that sufficient for the assault, or do you require additional support?" He grinned at the Captain of the Second Company.

Ashur returned the grin. "No, I think we'll get by."

_Volos System  
_ _Strike Carrier Hekate's Wrath  
_ _En route to Mandeville Point_

  
  


Saeg stood alone within the _Hekate's Wrath's_ observation dome; its shutters pulled back to reveal the emptiness of the void. The Strike Carrier, one of the first to be constructed at the Shipyard of Volos, was as old as he. The ship was a veritable newborn despite a half-century of service, and he felt a kind of kinship with it. Saeg spread his senses wide amongst the _Hekate's Wrath's_ crew with an effortlessness born of experience. He skipped over the mostly idle minds of the servitors and focused on the mortal crewmen. While some few individual thoughts registered fear or anxiety, most were calm and confident. 

The vox bead in Saeg's ear chirped, notifying him of an incoming communication. "Saeg here. Go ahead." He said, touching the small button on his vambrace.

"Stormlord," the voice of Brother-Captain Kalshri, _Hekate's Wrath's_ Commander, greeted him. "Squad Kor is gathering in the war room as per your request."

"Thank you, Brother-Captain. I will be on my way in a moment." Saeg closed the connection and smiled. Kalshri was, like Saeg himself, a founding member of the original three hundred Storm Talons. It was good to have a seasoned shipmaster of his calibre to call upon if needed. He took one more look at the stars beyond the transparasteel dome before pressing the controls that would cause the shutters to close and exiting the observation dome.

It was a relatively short trip to the _Hekate's Wrath's_ bridge deck. The corridors between the observatory and his destination were not as populated as the lower decks of the great warship, but even so, he encountered several mortal crew. Saeg ascribed their presence due to the ship's preparations to breach the barrier between the material and the warp. Whenever he came upon them, they would stand aside and make the sign of the Aquila with their heads bowed.

He arrived at the heavily reinforced doors of the _Hekate's Wrath's_ bridge and waited for a few moments as they ground open. The main section of the bridge was cramped with numerous stations, their cogitators blinking and attended by servitors, robed Mechanicus Adepts, and uniformed mortals. He nodded to Commander Sheiv, who returned the greeting. Like many of the native population of Volos Secundus, she was tall and dark-haired with piercing blue eyes. Nominally in command of the _Hekate's Wrath,_ when Captain Kalshri was indisposed, she made it a habit to be on the bridge before every warp jump. For over thirty years, she had served on board the warship, rising through the ranks from an Ensign under Kalshri's gaze.

"Welcome to the bridge, my Lord," she greeted him quietly as he passed her station. Long years of familiarity had eased the necessity of protocol between them. She returned her attention to the readout scrolling by on one of her many displays without fear of reprimand.

Saeg paused for a moment. "Commander, what is the status of preparations for the warp jump?"

Sheiv glanced at one of her station's displays. "Gellar field generators are warming up and are at seventy-five percent of operational power. All stations are reporting green for the transition."

He nodded. "Good. How long until we reach the Mandeville point?"

"At current engine thrust levels, we will arrive in approximately three hours, my Lord," She replied.

Saeg looked to the steps that lead up from the operations desk to the observation platform where the Captain's throne sat. "My thanks, Commander," he said as he began climbing the tiered steps.

"You're welcome, my Lord," Sheiv replied, turning her attention back to her station.

As he reached the top of the second tier of steps, the gravelly voice of Captain Kalshri greeted him. "Hail, Stormlord," Looking up from the display built into the side of the command throne, Kalshri fixed Saeg with a baleful stare. Like all Storm Talons, Kalshri possessed the black eyes and hair of their progenitor. His unnaturally pale face, another hallmark of the Storm Talon geneseed, was lined with ragged scars that passed below his jaw and throat. 

"Greetings, Brother," Saeg responded, a faint smile playing about his lips. "I see that Commander Sheiv has kept the _Hekate's Wrath_ in one piece, despite your presence."

Kalshri rose from the command throne. "Commander Sheiv is a cunning void warrior. An asset to the Chapter and the _Hekate's Wrath_ ," he growled and then smiled, extending a hand to his brother. Seag took it and grasped his brother's forearm, their wrists touching. "It is good to see you, Saeg."

"Likewise, Kal," Saeg's smile widened. "It is good to be back aboard. I have spent too much time earthbound as of late."

"Like the oceans of old, the void calls, eh?" _Hekate's Wrath's_ Captain chuckled. "The youngbloods are waiting for you in the War Room. They seem to be getting younger every decade." 

"They aren't brother. You're just becoming a curmudgeon in your old age."

"So I am, brother," Kalshri laughed and rubbed his scarred hands over the stubble on his shaved head. "Still, for us, growing old is a sign of accomplishment, is it not?"

Saeg nodded somberly. "Aye brother, it is." He glanced towards the entrance to the War Room behind and to the right of the Captain's Throne. "Still, old age is no reason to dawdle." He grinned. "I've kept them waiting long enough.

Captain Kalshir clapped the librarian on the shoulder. "Aye, Stormlord. Your cubs await!" Taking a step forward, he stood at the top of the stairs and looked down at his second in command. "Commander! Contact Rusla and request that she begins her preparations for warp transit early."

"Understood, Captain!"

Kalshir glanced over his shoulder at Saeg. "I hope that our destination is more welcoming than the last location we ferried you to brother." He said mildly. 

With a shrug, Saeg began walking towards the entrance to the War Room. "The echoes of many futures diverge from this point, Kal. May the Emperor grant us the wisdom to choose the best of them."

"Indeed," Brother Captain Kalshir looked out over the bridge as the Stormlord reached the bridge entrance to the War Room. "The Emperor watches over us."

Kor and the members of his squad stood as the Stormlord entered the War Room. "Please Brothers," The Stormlord said, waving his hand at the chairs surrounding the large table in the center of the room. "Be at ease." As they resumed their seats, Saeg glanced at the servitor hardwired into a control alcove mounted in the room's wall. "Activate holoprojector." The device embedded in the table activated, spilling bright beams of light into the room. After a moment, the image of an ungainly mass, vaguely star-shaped, resolved itself. Screeds of data flowed down the side of the picture.

"A space hulk," Kor grunted as the image continued to take shape. "I take it this is to be the focus of our mission, my lord?" Despite the relative rarity of the phenomenon, it would not be the first time the Storm Talons would be called upon to deal with such a threat.

Saeg nodded, momentarily distracted by the echos he felt in the warp surrounding the construct. "This particular hulk has been designated Alpha-Nephi-AA. It was recently spotted breaching warp space between the Volos System and the Osiyan Expanse."

Memnon shook his head. "There's not much out there. How was it discovered?"

"Pure luck," Saeg responded. "A cargo hauler, _the Nazimova_ , had been forced from the warp a day earlier and was affecting repairs when it translated into real space one-thousand kilometres from their starboard bow." He touched a command console on the table, and a smaller holographic representation of the _Naimova_ appeared to float alongside the hulk. "The Logis believe the bow wave of the hulk likely tossed her like a paper boat on the open ocean."

Memnon whistled quietly in appreciation of the relatively close call. "That close? They're lucky that they didn't get sucked into the breach without functioning Gellar fields."

"Indeed."

Riisvul looked up from the data output he had been examining. "Is this a rescue mission as well, Lord?"

The Stormlord shifted his gaze from the projection to the young astartes. "No. The crew of the _Naimova_ was able to bring the real-space engines online and put some distance between them but not until after they had gotten some fairly detailed scans for a vessel of their class." 

Kor nodded. "Scans indicated that there were no signs of biological signatures but that most of the component ships that make up Alpha-Nephi-AA have reactors that are still hot. What is the mission? Normally clearing a space hulk is the job of the First Company's Terminators."

Saeg smiled briefly for a moment before responding. "Sargeant Kor, you and your marines will accompany me to the Alpha-Nelphi-AA and assist in scouting the hulk in advance of the Stormborn."

Memnon frowned. "That isn't exactly standard practise, my lord." his tone was nothing if not respectful. "There's more to this, isn't there?"

"Very astute, Memnon," Saeg replied. "The First Company will arrive to deal with the hulk itself, but I believe that it may contain an ancient relic from a more glorious time." He touched the control panel again, and another ship appeared beside the projection of the hulk. "This is the _Blessings of Golconda_ ." Unlike the _Naimova_ , a blocky workhorse covered with dents and scrapes, the _Blessings of Golconda_ was a sleek and pampered warhorse. "She was lost eight-hundred and eighty-eight years ago while under the command of Lady Amelia Evehart, head of the Evehart Rogue Trader Family during that time."

"I'm sure that the Evehart family will be pleased to know that her ladyship has arrived, albeit a bit late." Makkru quipped.

Saeg raised an eyebrow and glanced at Makkru. "I'm sure that they will, brother. Assuming that the Praetor decided to inform them." Saeg glanced over at the servitor, hardwired into the control cubicle. "HK51-Zi, have you finished the spacial and positions calculations?"

"Affirmative. Match confirmed." It said it's voice creaking from a lack of use.

"Extrapolate and overlay with the projection of Alpha-Nephi-AA." 

"Compliance," The servitor responded. The astartes watched as the holographic projection of the _Blessings of Golconda_ stretched, bent, and then flowed into place over a section of one of the "points" of the hulk.

"There brothers," Saeg said. "That's where we will be heading. Those are the remains of the _Blessings of Golconda_ , and if we're fortunate, where we will find the remaining Claw of Saas-ur."

  
  


_Night lords Vessel Corasha Vor 1  
_ _On Approach to System Core  
_ _Tralops System_

  
  


She was a killer. Sleek, deadly, and ancient. She passed the glittering wreckage of the system defence ships, the echoes of their crew's vox scream still reverberating in the ether. The vessel's name, _Corasha Vor_ , was etched into the hull's metal in a flowing script of shattered Nostramo. The winged skull of the Night Lords proudly displayed above it. The ancient warship served the Malakth-Ha Warband as their flagship, and both served the Sorcerer Lord Strigoi.

Captain Zevgre sat in the Command Throne on the raised command station that overlooked the operations pit below. Thick cables snaked from the neural jacks in his skull and interface ports in his midnight armour. He smiled as the _Corasha Vor's_ ancient machine spirit purred with satisfaction inside his mind. Alone, the _Corasha Vor_ had met the system defence ships and destroyed them all while the Malakth-Ha's fleet watched from the rear. The other ship's Captains were unwilling to risk angering either the vessel or her Captain by becoming needlessly involved.

~A great victory Captain,~ Lord Strigoi's voice whispered in his mind. ~I trust that 'Lady Death' is satisfied?

Zevgre sighed before looking up towards the observation blister obscured from mortal eyes by the darkness above him. He hated the 'pet' name the crew had given his ship. ~The _Corasha Vor's_ bloodlust has been sated for the moment, Lord. With your permission, we will begin moving the fleet towards the first of the three planets in this sector identified for reaping.~ He didn't bother to keep the disdain he felt.

Strigoi chuckled in his thoughts. ~You are welcome to your opinions, brother. It is a sentiment shared by many of the Legion born of Nostramo. One that we can no longer afford. Despite your personal beliefs, you are loyal, are you not?~ 

Zevgre's breath rushed into his chest as he _felt_ his Lord's mind expand into his. Strigoi's presence filled his own, stretching into the corners of his thoughts as the Sorcerer gave his Captain his full attention. "Ashilla noth2," Zevgre lips whispered into the darkness. ~I am loyal.~

Strigoi's presence in Zevgre's thoughts shrank as he turned the majority of his attention elsewhere. ~That fills my hearts with joy Zevgre. We have spent the blood of our brothers for centuries in memory of our Father. Our time of grief has come to an end. The warp exalts our names in whispered promise. I see the suggestion of a path before us, one fraught with dangers and jealousy.~

Zevgre lowered his gaze to the operations pits sunk into the floor before him. Housed within the cavity, servitors, mortals, and the priests of the Dark Mechanicum monitored and operated the ancient ship's many systems and sensors. ~It sounds glorious, my Lord,~ he responded. ~This is why I do not trust it. Glory is the wine of degenerates like the Black Legion and World Eaters. Not the Night Lords.~

The Sorcerer was quiet for a moment. Strigoi's voice was rich with anger and longing. ~There was a time, before we found the Night Haunter, that the Eighth Legion was respected by our then peers despite our methods and origins. True, the name Night Lords sparks fear in the souls of those mortals who know it, but amongst our 'allies' we are mere degenerates and cowards.~

~You care what the shattered remnants of Horus' Legions think of us?~ He replied silently. How badly our place in an uncaring universe rankles your noble Terran blood, brother. The thought came unbidden to Zevgre's mind. He paused, knowing the Sorcerer would hear the words even though he didn't 'speak' them.

The impression of a cold blue-tinged smile dragging itself across perfect, if pointed, teeth bled into his mind. ~Oh no brother, my 'noble Terran blood' drives me to desire a return to the days that our enemies shook at the mere hint of our presence. I wish to remind our so-called 'allies' of our true nature and purpose, but for that, I need to gather those I can trust to replace those we've lost. I need Brothers loyal to more than just themselves.~

~You sound like Abbadon.~

~The so-called Warmaster of the Black Legion is not wrong in this. We will raise this new generation of Night Lords the way our Father intended. I have _seen_ this.~

Captain Zevgre was silent for a minute. Slowly he raised his eyes from the operations pits to look at the navigational screens and fleet readouts. It could take months to scour the system for all that they needed. The Hive world of Tralo would take the longest as they searched the populous for the necessary volume of recruits they would need. It would be a new beginning of sorts, and he found the idea intriguing. "Master of the Vox," he called.

"Lord?" The mortal asked as the lenses replacing his eyes whirled, attempting to focus on the form of his Captain.

"Signal the fleet. Our master desires flesh for the apothecaries, and he shall have it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1: Corasha Vor - Nostraman meaning "I Breathe Death"  
> 2: Ashilla noth - Nostraman meaning "I am loyal."


End file.
